Through our eyes
by AgentAlethia
Summary: If Jack could have a willing believer, why couldn't Pitch? What if Pitch was seen by someone actually happy to see him? He would not give her up. Jack believes she needs to know the truth, she can't support Pitch. Not now. However, she is a special believer - as the Man in Moon knows more than he ever lets on. Features Jack x OC romance later on in story. (May move up rating later)
1. Favourite part

**A/N: Like so many others, I couldn't walk away quietly once the credits rolled for RotG. So, I begin my first fanfiction ^-^ Please enjoy - **

**Note: This will be a JackxOC romance, but I just want to start with a certain point ~**

Within a certain dark living room, late into the night, one cascading water droplet caught the eye of the home owner. It rolled with grace and patience down the scathed window, and before it could be absorbed by weathered wood, the entire pane was lifted with a jolt. Another rainstorm tonight. Cool air rushed into the aged living space, making its' impact on curtains, caressing old papers - ending its' presence by softening almost as soon after it was invited in. Even strong winds would not damage the small apartment, these things were built through industial strength. Even so, the sudden change in temperature led to the young homeowner to shiver.

Small footsteps led to a large dusty bed. "It will need another wash soon.." was all that cut through the solitude, followed by a tired sigh. A small, knitted beige blanket was on the edge of the bed, and soon after it was draped over just as small shoulders, having turned away from the window it left two eyes to stare intently at the bed coverings, while arms were held tenderly across the ribcage. She honestly didn't mind the rain - if anything, it was a relief to know the plants were being quenched, and the bitterness of winter was on its' way out. Now hibernation would end: animals would return to healthy vegetables in abundance, newly bloomed flowers would bring back the bees, and the icing on the cake - warmth and light would come home. A content, hopefull smile spread across her face.

But such peace would not last long.

A spidery, long hand cupped her left shoulder, triggering a sharp coldness to the skin. A flinch and a gasp later, she turned to face a tall, shaddowy figure at least 2 feet taller than herself. Pure fear immobilised her, leaving her face similar to that of a doe in headlights, while such a terrifying spectre weaved his clawing hands through her loose, sandy coloured hair. With a chuckle, he bent to one knee and delicately held one of her small hands in his own.

"Still, no scream from my lady?" His charm brought her back to reality, her face mirroring his own grin. Her expression softened, her guard minimized, and her pulse raced with adrenaline. "Why try to make me jump, Pitch?" Her confident tone demanded, playfully batting away his hands from hers. She strode across the room to close the window, gratefull for the warm temperature that returned.

"You know I'm not afraid." She stated, turning back to his face. His face.. It was so content and relaxed, as if he was truly happy. His golden eyes seemed so calm, while his half smile brought on an atmosphere of cheeky-misheif. He, in turn, inspected her own features: wavy, sandy blonde hair, only just over 5 feet, an smiling, innocent expression with full green eyes, so young at just 17 - a perfect definition of a vulnerable victim for his tricks. Yet, she had enjoyed his company, unorthadox or otherwise. He felt gracious for such friendship, especially from a young lady who had no reason to even see his existance.

"If anything, I like fear - it makes me feel alive!" Her cheerfull voice brought him out of his thoughfull distraction. Within moments, she skipped across the bedroom floor to reach an old tome. Blowing the cover, she returned towards the bed. Lighting candles on the way, she jumped onto the center of the comfy mattress and patted for him to join her. He slowly reclined onto the soft pillows, knowing this pattern. Whenever she left her window open late at night, he knew she wanted to recieve a visit. He loved her open-minded kindness to him, and was more than happy to fufill whatever would grant her happiness - after all, it was rare to find such a believer who understood his desire for fear, and enjoyed the feeling herself.

"So tonight's story is-" He began, by gently taking the book from her hands."-The Killer of Haunted Hill, of course!" She stated in giggles, as if it were as obvious as where the sky was. His heart warmed. His gift for her on her 16th birthday. Snuggling into his shoulders, she saw his hands open at the beginning. She valued such experiences, her grace completely forsaken as she nuzzled her head against his shoulder. Her great friend, protector, understood her fascination with the unusual and strange. He didn't mock her for favouring daring horror stories to gentle romances, and he clearly appreciated her bravery when he confided in her his troubled, grim thoughts. Such as his anger towards those who stripped him of most of his power, she understood it as those who try to disrupt the balance of good and bad. Completely unnaceptable. She promised she would never abandon him when he was as weak as when they first met, like those people did. Cruel, disruptive people. Those who made him struggle, those who left him to fight for his life, those who misunderstood him. Those who would take the little happiness he held away.

He ended such bitter thoughts with a flick of his wrist, sending black darts to snub out all candles except the nearest one. She loved this part, the suspense, the way he tried to re-enact the fear of the written scenes. Her grinning face ended her evening by looking over the well read book, knowing almost every line anyway. Indeed, he was very happy. Even though this pattern was often, he never tired of the sound of her gasps, her protests to the charecters' actions, and promises to herself that _"Here comes the best part!"_. Truly, he held next to him the peice of fufillment that those horrid people would never be allowed to corrupt. This person was his closest ally, most trusted friend, and generous aider. She was warm, she understood fear. She was only his.

"Then let us begin, my darling." He smiled, patting the side of her cheek. "Chapter one: An unfortunate crash. One gloomy winter, when the ice was at its' harshest, a man would meet his untimely end. An end which could have been prevented if spring had only begun sooner..."

**A/N: Wait! Hold your torches and pitchforks! I'd like to state this will be a Jack Frost romance. I just adore the idea of some love for Mr. Pitch, especially him having a willing believer - he's such an amazing charecter :) And he was voiced by Jude Law. You just have to give love to him because of that :3**

**I enjoyed toying with the idea of what he'd lead his one treasured believer to think. Such as horror books and films are the best, and the guardians are awful. I can't wait to introduce her to the other guardians, but only if this first chapter was interesting enough. **

**I promise, her first meeting with the guardians is in the next chapter. I just have to establish a strong friendship between her and Pitch. Please review, so I can improve in the future! ~**


	2. In the Neighborhood

Despite the fact that it was Jacks' own idea to patrol areas Pitch was most likely to resurface in, he had to admit it was becoming tiresome. It had been many months since thier last battle, children were not suffering as much by his influence anymore, and all seemed as it should be. With winter on it's departure, Jack had to wrap up his last observations here quickly before moving on to another part of the world in need of his icy talents.

Although, he did enjoy his time in this small humble town. He dreaded the thought of Pitch returning at all while Jack was occupied elsewhere, especially the thought of Pitch terrorising this particular neighborhood. He casually glided along the cool breeze, reasonably higher than all the pedestrians below. Glancing over, he saw many young ones being ushered from the slushy sidewalks and into thier warm homes, some miserable from the lack of strong snow to built fortresses for war, some just fed up with the lonely, damp weather. Overall, however, they were not very pleased.

Jack felt a pang of guilt. This part of winter was a mix of frost holding on to this season with both hands, while the sun was constantly and vigilantly trying to beam its' way through murky clouds. The result: no snowfights to be had, only bitter walks home. He couldn't even fade snowballs back into the parks for them, North and Bunnymund had made it an ingrained lecture that winter must end gently to allow the ecosystem time to adjust from Pitchs' onslaught of damaging nightmares. Not only that, but North was sure the excess of Jacks' powers during that certain struggle could have destroyed many of the surrounding trees, budding plants or newly sown seeds - meaning Jack was prohibited from causing any unnecessary coldness. North was especially displeased with the blackening of treebark, or grass patches, they must have been severely affected.

"I guess...that's fair." He grumbled, gliding towards the ground with boredom. _"Even if these poor kids have to face a snowless April" _ This kind of thinking continued as he descended, taking out his frustrations on the pebbles that dared block his path. Visions filled his mind of _that _particular easter in the sixties. He probably should avoid that kind of incident again, unless he wanted Bunny all frantic and crazy. And irritated. Bunnymund, hopping about trying to dethaw his easter eggs... Jack sniggered, deviously planning his next prank against his brother in arms. _"Nothing wrong with some friendly competitio- umm, playfullness. Yeah,_" He justified his thinking _"Keeping him on his toes - paws - whatever. It will do 'im some good to keep him up to shape!" _Smirking at his superior reasoning, he began guiltlessly frosting over tree branches, car rooftops, anything that kept parents cautious of an impending snowday - he owes that much to the children. Hope was the best gift, and he tried to bestow it as often as possible. North would be proud.

Something was spilt. A small amount of water? No, it would have been far colder - Jack would've known if was water. It was heavier, but lighter at the same time. Dirt? It didn't sound murky or clumpy enough to be dirt. Investigating seemed like Jacks' best option at the time. So off he walked, down the road. It continued to pour to the ground in small amounts, but he couldn't see anything. Maybe it wasn't being poured at all, maybe it was just being shifted? Moved to somewhere else - like being swept away?

He guessed it could of been sand, but it wasn't even dark yet. Sandy began his rounds deep into the night to ensure his dreamers were submerged enough to be sensitive to his influence, otherwise they might stir. So, it wasn't a splashing noise of water, but it seemed light like sand pouring... By the time he thought all of this, he was already at the end of the road. The next intersection lead to a couple more streets filled with houses, and in the distance - an apartment complex, and that was barely filled. Only adults lived there, from young college students to retired pensioners. Still, that left a very quiet area.

He shrugged and lightly jumped into the air above. Could've been anything realy. He began to ascend to make his way to Norths' workshop - he was awfuly fond of one of the spare rooms there, claiming it for his own. North was only too happy to oblige, as it kept him in one of the safest fortresses known and under his eye at the same time. As long as he behaved himself, he was free to test and trial the toys to his hearts content. And he realy did enjoy keeping himself busy.. as now there's no more villain. Jack slowed his gliding, only reaching about 40 feet above the ground.

Pitch wouldn't just..give up, would he? He wouldn't go off and have a holiday - he's been a little too quiet. With that thought, he was reminded by he began these patrols in the first place. Except, he held a little desperation in his thoughts - his mind travelled down a paranoid, fearfull road.

_"Pitch wouldn't be hiding, he'd be planning, scheming, doing something! Someone that power hungry doesn't just go! So where is he? Think,Jack.." _He glided over rooftops, catching snippets of innocent conversation, while skimming for incriminating evidence that something horrid was beginning.

- While, at the foot of the apartment complex -

Small hands lugged a large black waste bag into the carpark outside. She grunted, and she cursed under her breath. This was a chore that had to be done though, and she understood that. "I just wish the stupid - arhgh -rubbish -ghhn- skip was closer to - Gah! - the apartment.." She sighed. It wasn't the brightest idea to complete this errand barefoot to the other side of the carpark, but she believed she would only be there for a couple moments. Easy enough.

She _pfft-_ed her hair out of her eyes, feeling like this task was far more complicated than it should have been. Normally, she'd nag at Pitch and make him do this - considering he shared the apartment most days of the week, so it was practically his duty as well. _"Stupid tall-meat head! Making me clean for the both of us this week.."_ The thought ran through her mind, resulting in a pang of sadness. She would be alone for now, while he was away "Researching".

She sighed. Almost there now, as she dragged the bag over a parking stopper. "He leaves once morning hit, with no more than a '_Keep yourself safe, darling" _as if that would help!" She lifted the lid of the communal waste collection skip, continuing her rant at no-one in particular.

"I don't even need him to keep me safe - I can do that on my own, thanks very much!" Her rage was vented through the bag being thrusted into its' new collection point. With a huff and a pout later, the lid was slammed shut. It seemed especially cold tonight, so she turned slowly to assess the battlefield.

"Hmm.." She glanced over her returning route. It began to darken outside, making it harder to see frosted puddles or dips in the concrete. It was like hop-skotch, she reasoned. Her arms crossed over her chest, hands gripping the thin yellow cardigan. Trying Her socked feet tested out a few baby steps infront of her, while her head dipped to conserve warmth.

"Flipping bitter weather! Stupid ungratefull roomate! Bloody outside bin collection - "

A pothole contained chilled rainwater from the previous evening, nothing frosted, but enough to send a certain small woman into a fit of shock. A strong weight held her right shoulder, and left hip, prevented her head from setting at an angle where her head would hit the ground, yet it did not prevent the ungraceful arm spasm, a buckled leg and a suprised gasp too - and then she was on her knees, harshly scraping them on the of dirty water following her lead. A sharp pain coursed through her joints, she quickly sat comfortably on the floor so she could inspect the damage. Wincing and reasuring herself it was only a little cut, she calmed her uneven breathing. Wimpering slightly, then scolding herself for behaving that of a child.

Her hands made quick work wringing out the dirty water from her sleve, while her knee seemed to cool from its' burning, stinging sensation. She felt very lucky, deciding not to question the up, she was grateful no one witnessed her blatant disregard of gravity. She brushed the gravel from her knees, straightened her skirt, looked over the parking lot once more - then returned back to her home.

"Stupid Pitch.." She concluded. She hated the cold. She hated bins, parking lots and Pitch. At least the door seemed to swing open on its' own, that made her journey a little more comforting. The strange part was how it gently closed after her entrance.

**A/N: Longer one, sorry about that.. Another "Fill the chapter with as much freakin' information so we can get to the good parts already!" chapter..**

**Hope you enjoyed - Please review with any suggestions or criticisms :3**

**(Forgot to note - Disclaimer- I own nothing except my OC, named ******** :D)**


	3. Losing keys

She couldn't shake the feeling of pure...uncertainty. It was just cold. She turned around to take the next block of stairs, but in the corner of her eye she could just sense something that wasn't there before. She didn't like it. _"Don't misunderstand, presence - " _She thought, calming her nerves in such a worrying situation _"I am not afraid of you, I just wish you would show yourself so we can parley - are you a ghost? A poltergeist? Just make yourself known so I can help you" _She tried to use her most gentle thought tones to try and communicate the way many negotiate in scary stories. She knew if she held respect for it, it would not see her as an immediate threat, she could even persuade it to her ideals.

She froze.

At the top of the second staircase, with her back to the steps, she held her breath. Waiting for any signs that anything paranormal heard her thoughts. Looking for any flurried movement, listening for any whispers, trying to feel any change in temperature. She must have looked ridiculous standing there all alone, at dusk. Not even half a minuet passed when she gave up her efforts, letting out her breath in a weary sigh. Her feet trugged to the last door in the hallway, resting her forehead on the door and feeling up her sleeve for her hidden keys. Nothing in the first sleeve, she must be tired - she couldn't even remebered which sleve she hid her keys! She used her right hand to graze over her left sleeve, but she felt nothing. Panic. A hitched gasp jolted her body upright into patting and smoothing over her entire cardigan, even the waistband of her skirt - but nothing. She even felt the bottom of her socks, just incase she left them there, the only result though was dampening her hands with muddy water.. She grimaced. _"When I fell over, did they fall?" _She groaned, then stomped down the hall, her skimmed knees slightly protesting from the force in each step.

Three angry steps later, she was assaulted with a freezing aura over every surface of her skin. She couldn't breathe - it was so odd. It only lasted a second, but it felt so very unusual - a draft wasn't even a possible option, the building was fully heated. It was too cold outside to open windows, and there was no sound of the ground floor door opening. Her skin pricked with anticipation, eyes widening, and fingertips trembling.

Something was different.

And then, in the corner of her eyes, her keys were inserted into the lock of her door. Just sitting there. Surreal - that wouldn't even cover her astonishment. Something so simple, but it wasn't even possible. Her keys...

"I-I didn't eve-even...H..How is tha-?" She quivered, louder than she expected. Taking careful steps, she placed a hand over the keys. On closer inspection, they were the ones she left the building with, except they were so very cold.

"I...I'm not alone..Am I?" She whispered, terrified that she was actually speaking to ghosts. She knew all those horror stories would pay off someday - but nothing could ever prepare her for this. Heart pounding, the only way to describe it was a mixture of fear for her own safety, a fear of the unknown, and a desire for things to return to normal. There was only a small margin of curiosity.

After a sharp intake of air, she squared her shoulders and intended to confront this essence - human or not. Being afraid would not paralyze her. _"What would Pitch think, if he saw you now? Stop being a coward!" _ By pepping herself up, she felt enough courage to find out what exactly she was dealing with. With balled fists, taught shoulders and an angry look on her features, she pivoted away from the door.

"Show yourself!" She demanded, and quite loudly at that. Again, the same silence as when she was at the top of the second set of stairs. She closed her eyes, focusing on her surroundings and thier noise. By opening her mind, and thinking of the impossible, maybe the ghost would show itself. If her mind was willing, maybe it will change the normal/paranormal scale, and she'd be allowed to witness something impossible. What was the odd sense out? Concentration allowed her to notice a shift in atmosphere - the coldness was back.

Slowly prying open the tight line of her eyelids, she braced her body as if she was about to be hit. Barely centermeters of her vision was available to her, and she saw-

"F...F-feet?" Eyes now were jolted open. She had to see if her eyes were playing hazy tricks on her. Everything stopped. She did it. No breathing - she brought something...something else into the normal world. A demon? A ghost? It looked like a ghost, so pale, so cold. But there it was, a 5 and a half foot spectre with an anxious expression on his face. _His _face. It was a person, a teenage boy, who stood 6 or so good steps away, blue sleeved arms slightly raised in a supportive, surrendering motion. Legs comfortably seperated, as if he were waiting for a friend, while a long smooth crook hung over his back like a bow. Ice. White. Hair. Her eyes trailed from his toes up to his eyes, his pale, freezing eyes. Yet they held a compassionate emotion. Could she see me - Jack wondered. It was still a strange concept for assuming whether he could be seen or not.

Silence.

She knew he probably wasn't going to hurt her, but she screamed anyway, running the few steps back to her front door, fumbling with the lock. Her hands didn't seem to hold enough stability in operating the keys, being as shaky as they were, leading her panicked state to start barging the door with her shoulders. With each thump, Jack winced, and rushed to brace her away from the door - before she hurt herself. However, the closer he got, she louder in her protests, and in her demonstrations she became. More whimpers, cries and hurried movements to barge down the door became a success when the door fell through the pane, and ripped from the hinges, leaving weary cracks and sharp snaps of metal echoing the empty hallway.

"PITCH!" She cried, eyes watering. What if this was the demon he warned her of? What if she was easy prey and they found out this was where he was residing? She fell onto her back, struggling to stand, and resulting in crawling away from the doorframe. Her eyes scanned the familiar hallway, looking for something to defend herself with.

"No, it's alright! Pitch isn't here!" Jack quickly rounded into her apartment hallway, trying to hold her harm to steady her to her feet. He needed her to calm down, her hysteria was dangerous - if she could break down her wooden door, she could hurt herself out of fear and not paying attention. He had to help her, she was terrified. He bent down to her level, trying to sound as comforting as possible. He held out his hand, and tried to let her move comfortably - letting her maintain some control over her fear. _"She must have been traumatised pretty bad for her to recognise Pitch with such a reaction, and to recognise him by name.."_ He thought, but Pitch wasn't there at all, she must be so worried he'd return. His chest felt sliced by such distraught actions by this terrified young lady, he had to let her know somehow that she was safe.

"G-get away! " She screeched, throwing nearby books, ornaments, handbags.. anything in her grasp. In return, Jack dodged, jumped, and pushed his way through the assault.

"Hey, it's alrigh-Woah! Stop that! It's alright now!" He said as calm as he could, but the result was a stern order. His hands clasped over her own, despite her struggles, and he brought his face down to hers. Her own head thrashed, her arms trying to pry his off of hers, survival instincts kicking in - the moment one of her arms were free, it connected with force to his jaw - leaving Jack to stagger back and fall on his behind.

She stood, clutching at the nearby lamp, ready to smash the intruders' head - if need be. Heart pounding, eyes glazed over with fear, she tried to confront this.. attacker. Trying to calm her pulse, she took a good look at what she was dealing with. He took this opportunity to cradle his jaw with his hand, crouching on one knee and recovered from the imapact. He looked up at her, trying to judge whether she was going to be hostile again, she was probably frazzled and shocked over the thought of Pitch being here.

Her little knees were slightly bleeding from her desperate movements across the floor. Her trembling hands held an oversized modern lamp - nothing Jack couldn't disable, he could even defeat her entire existance in a snap of his fingers if he wished, her honey coloured hair was all frayed and messy from her antics of escape, her skin paled. But her eyes: by holding such determination and stubborn confidence - her green eyes kept Jack crouching down, almost daring him to move. He'd be lying if he claimed he wasn't afraid. Even if Jack was immortal, she had the mindset of a hunter right now - he did not want to trigger that and have to disable her fully to escape. She didn't deserve that.

"I'm not your enemy - you can relax" He spoke, slightly rubbing the corner of his mouth. He slowly stood, her gaze never lifting from his body. She looked over any weak points, any vulnerabilities he may have. She found none. It was not shown in her stance that she felt she had no chance of having the upper hand with him though - instead, she only watched when he slowly stood. Being allowed this, he experimented with her anger by taking a step forward, the result: only a slight shift of the lamp. Good. He stood a chance.

"Why are you here? Who are you?" She inquired, with uncertainty lacking in her voice. Only confidence. Her stance didn't lessen, despite his closeness. It was true she felt less afraid, knowing she was dealing with a boy her age, but it did not exstinguish the fear of having an intruder in her home.

"My name is Jack. I heard you say something earlier on, I got worried, I followed to see if you were alright - " She gave him a skeptical look, raising the make-shift weapon "H-hold on! It's not like that! I just wanted to see if you were alright!" He pleaded. "Honest.." He finished by lowering his hands in submission, to show he was not trying to be aggressive. His breathing returned to normal, he felt he regained some control of the situation, at least if they were talking then she'd be reasonable.

"Why did you follo- The keys..Was that you?" She lowered her arms, and by extension (and to the releif of Jack) the lamp. She seemed more cautious and wary, rather than intimidated. Her eyes were less angry now. He sighed with relief. Jack ran a hand through his hair, shifted his shoulders and averted his gaze - he was the definition of guilt.

"Sorry. You just looked cold, and I saw you drop them outside, so I picked them up, an-" He began, trying to make amends before being interupted by the young blonde.

"You saw that outside? Oh no.. That's so embarrasing.." She cringed, lowering the lamp completely. He looked up in suprise. Here, he was an intruder in her home, she felt frightened, scraped her knees and hands trying to get into the home, and she felt..self conscious about how she appeared to him? He let out a chuckle, relieved the tension of the situation was fading. He was just still thrilled he could be seen. She let out a small laugh to mirror his own, knowing all dangers had passed.

"Don't be embarrased, I'm just glad you're out of the cold." He smiled up to her. It was official, the whole drama had now cooled down, and proper introductions were in order. He took a step forward, before gesturing his hand infront of hers, by looking into her face, he asked permission "May I..?", and with her approval, gently took her right hand into his own.

"I am truly sorry for frightening you, I didn't mean to." He lightly pressed his lips to her hand, before releasing it from his grasp. He attempted to set the atmosphere of polite and proper, so she felt more at ease. She shook his hand, before he let it fall, however.

"Jack, was it? It is nice to meet you. Would've been a whole lot more lovely if it were under better circumstances" She grinned. She looked over the small apartment, assessing the damages. Making a mental note of what would need to be replaced, she seperated her hand from the contact of his, and took a step back. How was she to address this matter now. Should she behave like a hostess, and offer him a warm beverage? _"Probably would be the best thing to do right now to ease tension - ice breakers, and all that.." _She thought.

"So.. What brought you here? What were you so worried about that you had to follow me, you creeper?" She joked, knowing no danger was present, at the expense of his bewildered and reddened face.

**A/N: I'm so very happy that I've gotten this many views already - You can't begin to image how motivating that is! So thank you so very much! Please review - that way I'll know whether I'm crossing any lines or if I'm doing things right 3 Next chapter - a little chat about Pitchs' history between Jack and our paranoid young lady :) Jack believes she is afraid of Pitch still, while she believes Pitch is amazing and Jack was the intruder - all will be an interesting conversation and settled next time~**


	4. Checkmate

"So, you were just.. outside. Listening to me babble on?" Her small hands cupped a warm mug of tea. She glanced over the rim of it, noticing how he slouched down onto the sofa. He huffed a sigh of relief, rubbing his eyes. She was sat at the small wooden dining table that seperated the kitchen and living area, far more reasonable than thier first impressions.

"I was in the area, yeah." He added calmly - now things were settling, he decided he should question her sudden reaction to the name 'Pitch', and get to know her relationship with the evil man. This was a highly unusual situation. He rose, walking over to the living room window - it was a large, wall length one with a singular long sheet of curtain for privacy. He gently pulled it, knowing the next conversation would be a sensitive one and giving her a sense of privacy could ease the whole questioning proccess.

She looked up, warily. She didn't interupt his actions, knowing they must have held some purpose. Instead, she shifted a little to recognise him when he chose the chair opposite her, rolling her eyes at his tacky preference to sit facing forwards on a backwards chair - straddling the back of it.

"So what's wrong? Is there something preventing you from.. you know.." She inferred, hoping not to offend just froze, completely confused. He said nothing, only looking at her as if she spoke in a different language. What was he being prevented from right now - did she mean his search for Pitch? Maybe she caught on that the reason he saw her outside was because of his mission.

"What? Continuing my search someplace else? I guess you could say that." His hands held the tall glass of lemonade, grateful for a cold beverage. She slowly opened her mouth as if to reply, having a mental breakdown in the process - _"A ghost, unable to pass and stuck here? But he holds objects...A poltergeist then? A friendly poltergeist at that..." _Her pokerface maintained control, despite the completely unorthadox situation they found themselves in. She nodded, knowingly towards him.

"How do I help? Do you need an item, or help getting into one of the rooms? I'm good at lockpicking.." She began, now reciting all the knowledge from her old stories, none of which seemed to present any helpful instructions on helping the dead pass on. Jack glanced around the room - still a shambled mess, but at least he helped prop the door against the frame to give them the illusion of safety. He could defend them both, without a doubt anyhow.

"I don't need anything special, but thanks anyway. I've got it all under control -" He claimed, earning an enthusiastic nod from his hostess -"But I'd like to ask you some questions, if that's alright with you?" By gently prying, he might be able to uncover what influence Pitch has had on the poor girl.

"Of course! How unrespectful of me, would you like to know the year? Or I can try to google the fate of your loved ones? Google's like a modern book, you see, we'll have you up to date in no-"She stood, feeling a strong purpose, happy to help. He stood with her,attempting to stop her flurried rants before she began something else as equally strange.

"What? No! I don't even need... Anyway, I wanted to ask about you" Jack sighed, this was a strange girl indeed. He knew what google was, and he knew his loved ones had passed on hundreds of years ago - but she seemed to genuinely care. _"Maybe she's not trying to insult me, maybe she's just...frazzled. It has been a pretty suprising evening."_ Jack thought.

"Oh?" She complied, sitting down once more. She began looking at him with great interest. This was new, she thought, better to listen to what he asked for. Jack noticed her facial features took on a softer, more empathetic tone - making him feel very welcome in her home, and accepted. It was still the best feeling: being noticed by a believer, and being looked at with such adoration - as if he was a cherished friend. It warmed his iced chest, swelling him with pride that a teenager would believe in him with no hesitation.._'err, except the hesitation in the hallway, but that was Pitchs' fault' _Jack thought.

"Do you live here all on your own, Miss...umm?" He awkwardly gestured his shrugging shoulders, and an almost handshake motion with one hand, while the other swayed the half full glass in a semi circle - meaning the room. Her face became flustered, that question was far too personal for mere aquaintances! What if he realy was a creeper? _"Even so, he remembers my address now, so the bloody ghost could invite himself in any time he wanted.." _she thought. Maybe if she acted civil, he would pick up on the hint.

"No," she stated "I live here with a flatmate." Her passive, pokerface tried to retain as much normalcy one can expect from a conversation with the undead. However, it wouldn't hurt to keep quiet that she was all alone and vulnerable when she slept. _"Great, now I have to sleep with one eye open thanks to the damned door..ugh." _ Her thoughts grumbled, reciting passages and chapters where unsuspecting victims were captured in thier slumber thanks to faulty carpentry. So far, she was up to at least 11 books where that exact situation was graphically detailed.

"Ah, I see." Jack smiled, the worry of her being left on her own now vanishing. "Have you noticed anything...strange recently? Other than tonight, of course." He smirked, knowing that adding a little charm can ease the tension of such a strange conversation. Despite his efforts, her face remained unchanged - calculating, deep in thought, yet unguarded. She pondered this with a stereotypical index finger brought to her lips and a slight hum. Within moments, she asked "Like what?"

"You know, things that shouldn't be there, people acting strange - objects breaking. Just things seeming a little off?" He reclined in the backwards chair, relaxing his feeting position. He waited patiently, as she thought. Jack resisted the urge to start tapping his fingers against the chair frame, trying to give off the impression of proffesionalism, and that he was listening. It just took forever to get any answers, though.

"Over how long a period of time? Like 2 days for a missing person-kind of strange, or a month or two?" She asked. Maybe iff she narrowed down these vague questions, she could finally send this poor soul to its' rest.

"About a year and a half?" Came his reply. The same time she met Pitch. The same time many were suffering from nightmares, when objects outside seemed to break in the dead of night to petrify wandering travelers - the same time the embodiment of fear took residence here. Was Jack a friend of Pitchs' ? Did he know about him?

"Not that I can think of" She lied. Smiling as sweet as possible, she tilted her head just a little lower, to emphasise her innocent eyes. Pitch taught her to never mention him, many were hunting him. She won't let them get near them, she swore to her dearest friend she would protect him, as he has her. Even from this ghost, even if the ghost decides to extinguish her existance - she will be loyal to Pitch. This ghost was asking tricky questions, trying to catch her out, she was sure of it. She had to maintain the facade of innocence - keep the poker face. _"Like a chess match - don't let on how much you know" _She thought.

Jack huffed. He was getting nowhere. He should ask easier, more normal questions. Maybe she felt reluctant - they met in troubling circumstances after all. He tried a different tactic. Putting the glass back onto the table, he leant over to hold a small marble item. Fumbling it about between his fingers, she watched with awe. She never did learn to pass coins or small objects through each finger to make it "roll" across her knuckles. He watched her expression with amusement - she was much like a child.

"May I ask your name?" He smiled, feeling as if she was watching the small trick with a hypnotic enthusiasm. She caught him staring at her, giggling and looking away. _"I must have looked so silly.." _And with that thought, she turned the tables, by starting her own inquisition. With a devious smirk, another '_pfft'_ of air blown to remove her shorter wavy fringe, she brought back her determined confidence. Jack noticed her change in attitude, watching her pull a thick, wooden 8x8 grid, pinned down by two teams of little ornaments. One was worn marble, still gleaming with pride. Fragile, but so blatant, so loud compared to the dull colours of the other was a dulled mahogony, he was sure it was the victim of thoughtful hands many times, meaning it was filled with the experience of many battles.

"Chess?" Jack questioned, straightening in his chair, not one for turning away any challenge. A smile graced his face, as she began "I'd like to ask some questions of my own." They seemed to be a human mirror, both with thier war faces on, both sitting rigid as to not appear weak infront of the enemy team. It seemed as tense as the moments before a saloon shootout, the seconds before the trumpets of war sounded, the time of silence when staring down a predator. He loved this competitive girls' confidence. It was either very stupid, or very brave.

"How old are you, pale one?" She began, moving a pawn peice. "Only 316 years old. Almost 317, realy." He looked up, expecting some startling realisation on her face, maybe her features would show suprise, and she'd figure out that she wasa dealing with something far more awesome than her. But nothing, still as nonchalant as if he said a similar age to her. That put Jacks' resolve on edge. If she was off put by the shaddows outside, why not his inhuman age? She clearly acted as if it were normal information, unless...she didn't believe him.

"What about you?" He watched her features, knowing a chess board from memory anyway. He copied her exact move: third pawn in leftside, two spaces forward. He was going to test her skill before he beat her. Her reply followed "I just turned 17."

"Where do you come from?" And the chess game was on, between clicks of marble and wood, tapping fingers, nothing else was heard apart from the girls' questioning. "Here, actually. I lived in this town while it was still...I guess you'd call it 'learning to civillize' or something." A small 'Huh." was the only reply he had.

"So, who are you looking for, if you're not looking for an object?" She never broke away from the staring contest, even as she moved the peices. The match was becoming difficult, they were trying different statedgies, yet cancelling eachother out on each new move. At this rate, no one would win. No territory gained, only a deadlock. She thought of another plan to try and catch out his peices, one that will catch him off guard.

"I'm looking for-" He began, pausing only to lean over for a new peice. "-an old friend. I haven't seen him recently. He was last seen around here, I was wondering if anyone had seen him." She was certain, he must have been looking for Pitch. A ghost, looking for her dear friend. What did he plan to do to Pitch? Was Jack a messenger?

"Maybe he left for a reason." She replied cooly. She knew enough to report this to Pitch, but she decided to string out as much information as possible. "Not an option. I need to know where he is." Jack curtly replied.

"Excuse me for noticing, but it seems a more stressed reunion than old friends seeing eachother once more." She quipped towards him, knocking over one of his peices, and claiming it her own. She found a break in his defenses, she could find out more now.

"I guess you're right. He's dangerous to himself and others, I'd like to find him before-" He began, with more thought on the chess game at hand, suprised she took his bishop peice. He decided to keep his eyes on the board, she's tricky. "-anything happens. We all have friends like that." He smiled up to her, then returned his view onto the board.

She knew far more than he realised. She always felt she was the one that cooled Pitch down when he became too indulged in forcing nightmares on the locals. He became obsessive once he began his cravings, so much so that if she objects, Pitch would see her as an obsticle - pushing her away to feed on others fear. "I guess we do."

"So.."Jack began, watching her hands over the peices very carefully "..You shouted a very curious thing out there, in the hallway.."

"Hmm?" She innocently asked. "Yeah, you said the name I'm looking for." Her heart suddenly fell through her body, everything felt heavy - she was loosing her nerve, he'd notice her flaw. She bit her toungue, smiled, and thought of a quick lie. "What name?"

"You said 'Pitch', right?" Jack leaned forward, confident he caught her now. He was so close into confirming that she was lying about Pitch. He took out two of her peices, claiming them, then contiuing the game.

"Actually, I , err... was cursing... Sorry." She feigned looking bashful. He took a moment to look both skeptical, and concerned, as she continued "I thought you were going to hurt me." Once she had finished the sentence, Jack felt a massive pang of guilt. Maybe she was realy telling the truth? _"And I've scared her half to death?!Way to go, Jack..The ladykiller - literaly." _He thought.

"I am so sorry if I frightened you, I realy am. I just thought you knew about my friend, that's all." Jack promised, running his hand through his hair, trying to cover up his embarassment.

"It's alright, you were just worried is all.. So, why did he leave?" She asked, taking another one of his peices.

"He... Well, we had a fight. He hurt a lot of people." The sad, heartbreaking look on Jacks' face brought out a strong compassionate urge out of the young woman, and she found herself questioning her loyalty - before mentally scolding herself.

"He..hurt people? It must of been self defense, surely?" She claimed, looking over the board - now loosing her stratedgy.

"No. He became too greedy. He hurt a lot of peoples' lives - he was relentless and selfish - especially to childre-..Hey, you okay?" Jack wasn't paying attention to her face, more trying to focus on not loosing the game. It seemed far more difficult than he anticipated, but as he took another one of her peices, he looked up to smirk at her reaction. Only to find a paled, disturbed face.

"Ch-children?" A weak voice came out. Jack gravely nodded. "That's why I need to find him."

"No need to look so worried, I won't let him near you. Remeber who you're talking to!" He grinned, hoping to make her laugh. Instead, she looked at him bleakly.

"Jack the ghost?" She asked, hoping not to offend him. His face turned to that of shock. Instant recognition, sudden realisation - it was almost too much to proccess at one. She believed he was the undead, she was aiming her screams at him in the corridor, it had nothing to do with Pitch! He was the reason for her fear. He did not expect that. At all. By the time he pulled his nerve together, he saw her do the most unexpected thing for that situation.

"Checkmate." She decreed, holding a deep sadness in her voice.

_"No. I need to set this right" _Jack thought. "Look, let's keep this as calm as possible. I'm not a ghost." This caught her attention. She straightened in her seat.

"Then what are you?" She asked. Not realy believing him.

"Similar to who I'm hunting I guess. I am Jack. Jack Frost." He watched her face, speaking slowly. He cannot screw this part up, otherwise her faith in him will falter, and then he'll never be able to talk to her again.

_"Jack Frost. The one who immobilised Pitch." _She realised. _"No..He checkmate-d me."_

**A/N: Another long one, it didn't turn out as good as I hoped - It was meant to realy emphasise the mistrust she feels of Jack, and the many issues which are gonna be an obsticle in the future. **

**Please review - next chapter will follow very soon after this one! **


	5. And just like that

"You know something, don't you?" Jack calmly stood, cautious not to scare her again. How else could she see him, yet not know who he is?

"Why? Why have you come here?!" She raised her voice. An intruder in her home, and she even fell for his lovely, gentlemanly attitude. Even his cheeky remarks brought a calming to the room, so why the anger now? _"Pitch needs to be kept safe, that's why!" _Was her reasoning in her mind.

"I need to find him, I swear I heard you say his name, I just want to talk to him."He felt he failed, she began looking hysterical again - her breathing became shallow and panicked. He made her afraid again. "Just tell me why you're so off put by this" Jack requested.

"Because! I have no idea what you're talking about! Stalking me, following me into my home! I tried to talk calmly to make sure-" She shouted loudly, before stepping away from him. Pitch won't save her now; this is the person who managed to hurt him. Badly. -"you weren't gonna kill me, or that you were a ghost or something! Now you're...Y-You say you're Jack Frost?!" Screeching, she felt very scared.

Jack knew she probably wanted to fight her way into kicking him out, so he glided quickly in front of her to stop her little hands finding the lamp again - while his hands covered her mouth. "Look!-" He ordered. "I'm not gonna hurt you! I just needed to ask some things, that's all..." He watched her face, shocked and speechless.

_"He glided - GLIDED. Not human! Like Pitch__...__I need Pitch's' help!" _She panicked in her mind. His hand felt so raw and cold, her face was stinging from the exposure of it. Her eyes pricked with tears at the feel of it - it was completely unwelcome, and Jack saw the complete dejection all over her face. He quickly removed his hand from her mouth, taking a step back. He didn't mean to cause her so much distress; he just needed to know what Pitch was up to. Looking around, he realized he scared her into breaking her apartment, smashing the door off the hinges, and it left her in a crouched heap on the ground - quietly sobbing.

"WH-what are you?!" She yelled, between rolls of tears. This was too much to handle. She couldn't deal with this; Pitch couldn't even handle this guy. She was completely out of her comfort zone, and this 'Jack' guy was far stronger than she was. Pitch had left her, the monsters had found her. This cold one would end her soon.

"I...I am...It's alright, I'm not gonna hu-"He crooned, leaning down to her, his morality ripping apart his mind. He felt an enormous weight on his shoulders over this little, young woman. Jack felt he needed to soothe her, somehow - to show her he meant no harm. He began the way he did before the chess match, a simple, innocent distraction. She didn't know whether to flinch away from this movement, or to stand her ground. She was afraid of dying alone, not of the power of the person in front of her. She was afraid of never seeing Pitch again, not of dying. If anything, it would be interesting to see if she'd be a ghost.

He held out his palm, with her watching it warily. All was silent for a few moments. She wondered whether he was expecting something. Some twisted part of her mind found the situation funny - _"Maybe he wants a low-5!" _She called it a coping mechanism; Pitch called it immunity to terror. Either way, it helped. It allowed the girls' breathing to return to normal, but not all traces of concern were washed for her features. Her eyes zoomed between his own, and his outstretched palm. There, slowly forming and growing in size was a silver crystal- expanding. Only the size of a pea, but growing steadily and evenly to the size of a golf ball - then the details formed. She realized it was not a crystal at all, but some kind of ice. It grew to the size of a tennis ball, floating just above his palm. Her eyes grew as well, bringing a smile to the winter guardians' face.

"A...Snowflake?" She held out one of her own hands, testing it by lightly tapping the top. All traces of anger seemed to be forgotten for a moment, before the fear returned. When she looked at him, kneeling on the floor, eyes red from crying - careful on her word choices... He just wanted to take it all away. She looked so hesitant, he gestured for her to hold the giant snowflake in her own hands. However, as she took it, her racing heart ensured the blood flow filled her body with enough surface heat to melt it swiftly away.

"I am a winter protector - I'm the one who can control the freezing weather." He stated with calm precision, as if it were a simple definition. He allowed her time to adjust. He wanted this information to be slow, to be eased into.

"You're really Jack Frost? As in... The Jack Frost? "She gaped. He offered his hand, to aid her in standing. She took it nervously, noticing the contrast in heat. They were like opposites. Yet she felt so comforted to be near him, as if he were really speaking the truth. He nodded, giving her a half smile, and trying to behave humbly.

He didn't let her hand go, even once she stood. He held it, savoring the warmth. "You believed I was what? A Ghost?" He grinned.

"Well, what was I supposed to think?!" She scolded, snatching her hand away. And just like that, his goofy smile and her hidden grin lapsed into a synchronized laughter. This was a strange situation indeed. They laughed, walked back to the dining table, and laughed again. Like mad people, they eased the tension out of their systems by laughing. Nothing was particularly funny, but sometimes - she just needed to laugh it out.

"I'm sorry for punching you, Jack." Once she sobered up, she raised her hand to inspect his jaw, feeling far less threatened by him. She just felt willing to believe what he was saying. _"He just seems to be telling the truth. Maybe if I talk with him about Pitch, he'll realize it was a misunderstanding - he doesn't seem to want to hurt me or Pitch__..."_She thought, feeling a massive amount of relief at the concept of negotiations.

"It's alright; you've got a good swing." He chuckled. "Still, I can handle it"

She just smiled, rolling her eyes. A moment of peace passed, maybe a couple. It left enough time for the two to ease themselves into their own private thoughts - adjusting to the current affair, and preparing themselves for the next phase. She took a deep breath, while Jack watched, waiting for any instructions. He wasn't going to leave her while her door was broken, and she was confused. At least she seemed to be coping with the bizarre events. There was an unrecognizable glint in her eyes, though. _"Did she realize how inhuman I am? Should__...__ Should I leave her alone?" _ Jack panicked. His thoughts were interrupted, however.

"Alright. You're not a ghost. You're pale white and ice cold." She looked him dead in the eye.

He gulped.

"I know what you are." She sounded so confident, filled with assurance, knowledge - she looked brave and capable. Jack admired how she adapted, even if she did freak out a couple times. He nervously encouraged her to get a grip on her realization by requesting: "Can you...Say it? Out loud?" He needed to know if they were on the same page.

She could admit anything at this point - a demon? A minion of Pitch? A terrifying poltergeist meaning harm to her? He had to make sure they were on good terms, he needed to know who she was - he knew he was hiding something about Pitch; she must just be too scared to mention anything. He had to befriend her, and make sure Pitch no longer had a hold on this strange one. But what did she feel about him - what did she think? _"Why do you even care, Jack? If she wants to hate you, let her hate you. Why are you looking for her approval?! I don't know!" _He internally argued with himself.

She walked closer to him, inches between their faces. He noticed a good couple inches between them, being able to easily rest his head on top of hers - which Jack decided was a nice thing. Not that they'd be hugging anytime soon, or anything. "_Of course not!" _He thought. She looked him dead in the eye, churning his heart with intensity; he dared not to move lest he break this weird encounter. It was pleasant though, just so confrontational. He couldn't bear just standing there, he had to do something, like grab her, or laugh again - just the anticipation of waiting for something to happen was unbearable!

She turned, so her back was to him. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to maintain the intensity. He's never felt such a strong connection to any other believer before, and her warmth amplified the emotions he felt right now - it just felt like it all made sense to Jack.

And then she spoke.

"You're an idiot."

Just like that, instant regret filled Jack. He felt so ridiculous for thinking there was a strong intensity between them. He must of overthought her warmth, and beat himself up for letting his emotions getting the best of him. Thinking she felt that little pang of…Something. That excitement, comfort but fear at the same time - it was the weirdest sensation of the best thing in the world. Did she not feel that?

Nope, she just cut him off, walked away and crouched nearby to pick up some strewn books from the floor. He just stared in astonishment. Just like that, she went back to normal, her mind completely unreactive to the strange event previous as if it were nothing, even going as far as to tease him about it afterwards.

"mmmphs-stupid, making me think mmmshph -otter Casper shmmsph-" She muttered, leaving a gob smacked Jack behind her. He shook his head, and despite the insult, he was more than happy to help pick up the lopsided furniture. She was so strange - and he really liked that.

They were on other sides of the room within moments, straightening lamps, and picking up splinters from the door. She didn't glance over her shoulder once.

"You never did tell me your name..." He quietly pressed, hoping to earn something from being mocked.

She sighed. "It's Elia." Jack smiled. _"Elia. _It sounds nice_." _He tested out the name.

"Seriously though, a _Twilight _reference?" He snorted towards her, scooping up ripped book shreds. He'd have to replace them.

She looked over her shoulder once, grinning at him. "Yep - every situation needs one."

On that, they were truly opposites.

**A/N: I feel much better with this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, it was****...**** difficult to write. I may have time to fit in one more chapter today - if someone says something like "Hey - you're not too annoying, tell us more!" so I know I'm on the right tracks. On that note:**

**Thank you for so many views and reviews, I honestly didn't expect this much support! You all are amazing, and have changed my entire day with a single view of a chapter, let alone reviewing :') Shows how one person reading really can make a difference - and to you all, never change ^_^**

**And lastly - I know Jack was a little serious, but it was his **_**"Detective" **_**persona, which I don't think he'd be amazing at****...**** But now he is on a common ground with Elia - who I know is a little bi-polar. But hanging around with Pitch, she is gonna be affected. Which Jack will sadly find out. Not all bad though, I'd like to start writing about Jack and Elia's comedic relationship and the return of Pitch will bring back the drama. *Sigh* **

**Review! Even if it's **_**"Put in Jack eating spicy food, the winter bugger needs to warm up", **_**to which I will reply - "You are weird - I like you! Let's put it in!"**


	6. We were doing so well until

"Alright, let's clear this up one last time..." Elia huffed, sweeping the hallway in front of her apartment door. Jack held a small dustpan at her feet to catch her efforts.

"You were taking your sister ice skating, when you fell through the ice in an attempt to push her away - you were an immaterial wanderer for a couple centuries thanks to the moons' vague nature, then you wound up the Easter bunny-" She recited, as if it were a memorized shopping list, as Jack interrupted "Australian Easter bunny".

She took a deep breath before continuing. "-Aussie bunny, okay, and then Santa kidnapped you to unite the gardens of childhood?" She raised her head, stopped her sweeping, and bestowed upon Jack the _"Seriously?!" _look.

Jack returned by rolling his eyes, then standing to dispose of the dirt in the dustpan. "No, the _Guardians _of childhood." He honestly couldn't understand how she saw him, but didn't recognize him as Jack Frost - but a ghost, of course!

"Ahh, alright." She hummed, now understanding. She was met with Jack grumbling about recognition -"Hey, I have no idea what's going on! A winter guy is in my home, and he's all chummy with the Tooth Fairy - but it's all alright because he's helping me clean." She yelled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, stretching out every syllable of the end of the sentence. This ended any backtalk from Jack, earning Elia with his hands in a surrendering motion. She smiled at how the dustpan looked like a small shield when he held it like that.

"What are you smiling at?" He asked. All cheeky thoughts of his disappeared once he noticed she was staring at him.

"Your cute face." She stated, with a deadpan expression, as if she were telling him the time. So casually. He was caught off guard, mouth agape. His stutter provided her with ammo against him, she now knows he gets flustered with crushy compliments - handy to know.

"R-really?" His half-smile gave him hope. She decided not to crush his ego here, by telling him a half truth: "Yeah, it's adorable, like a little puppy" She smirked, turning away to sweep another area. Looking back over her shoulder to see the impact of her words, she saw a flustered Jack, who seemed to be as speechless as she wanted.

"Ahh, so winter spirits _ can _blush!" And with that remark, she returned to work. Jack's pride fell through the floor. _"I am not a puppy.. I am a man!" _He pouted to himself, listing all the reasons why he was a feat of biological engineering. He leant down to help clean up the tipped-over side table, along with the letters and the phone. He was a little irritated at her suddenly bitey behavior, she was so smart mouthed, just when he thinks he had any form of control on the situation - she ripped the ground right from underneath him. To be honest, with the strange turn of events, she probably felt that Jack ripped her entire world of rationality away from her.

It was just so sudden, and strange. Especially how they were just acting so normal together now. _"Maybe there is a chance after all to leave this place fixing more than was damaged, after all._" Jack thought. Absent-mindedly collecting letters throughout the hall, he noticed they weren't all that normal.

He didn't mean to be nosy - it was just there in his face. On a little A5 sheet of orange card, in black ink - a little message, a casual message - to none other than Pitch. Jacks' features darkened, he felt disturbed. A notice to Pitch, here? With Elia? His pulse became uneven, his hands shook with anger. Not because she lied, but because he was here - hiding in this young womans' home. Leeching off her property. Taking advantage of her.

His kind, cooling eyes snapped to an envisionment of unfiltered vengeance. The blue was not a friendly one, like newly formed icicles. No, this was the pale blue - the kind that mixed with grey, the kind you'd see on dirty car tires once the snow season was ending. The unwelcome bitterness you'd see on iced over mud puddles. Jack became very uncomfortable.

_"Pitch, _

_I'm working overtime tonight - we need to pay off the damages you caused to the kitchen. _

_I'm not mad at you, I know you can't control your anger._

_Try harder next time._

_Your Elia x"_

It seemed to just click into place for Jack. She held a perfectly accepting attitude of the 'paranormal', strangely so, that she held her nerve right up until she believed she was going to be harmed. Until that point, she was reasonable and confident. _"Pitch!"_ He remembered her calling, and muttering in the parking lot. He shuffled the letters and notes to seem innocent before placing them onto the right-side-up table.

Venturing innocently into the living room, he noticed black scorches on various parts of the walls, normally near the top. Ripped fabric adorned the side of the sofa, and cracked glass - still attached together - on the main cabinet, and far more books scattered across the ground. He was certain this was due to the misunderstanding earlier, but now...There was no way he could have caused this. He felt to blame. If he kept a closer eye on Pitch, he wouldn't be here, terrorizing Elia's home. He slumped his shoulders with shame, feeling responsible for all this hardship placed on her.

"Hey, Elia.. About today.." Jack called out, wringing his hands. Nervousness overtaking his attitude.

"Don't worry about it, Jack." She replied from the other room, the soft sound of bristling on the wooden floor filling the silence between them. He had to report back to North, he needed to let them know Elia was in danger. She needed to be separated from Pitch, and Pitch needed to be eliminated. Whether that was dark thinking or not, without supervision, Pitch only ruins anything he touches. That amount of evil must be controlled.

But this girl he just met, Jack felt he needed to be closer to her to find out Pitch's' ulterior motive. _"New plan -" _Jack thought. _"Keep an eye on her, she might be useful." _

"He's not_ that _bad, you know.." Elia softly promised, leaning against the living room doorframe. She witnessed Jacks' head whipping round to her position, eyeing her face then the letters in her hands. She looked down, longingly. She truly did miss him.

He didn't speak, only watched as she began speaking. One hand fumbled with her yellow sleeve, the other held onto the notes and letters with dedication. "He keeps me safe, keeps me company, and gives me new books.." Elia looked to the floor, feeling uncomfortable.

"It's a trick, he's not that kind." He reasoned. He almost regretted that sentence the moment she looked up. Her jawline was set, eyes watering, yet determined and mouth pressed into a thin line. Elia clearly felt hurt.

"How do you know? He was here - Pitch helped-" She argued, raising her voice.

"No, that's not him." Jack cut her off. Normally he'd never be so rude, but she was in danger.

She turned away from him, folding her arms and the letters across her stomach. For some reason, she felt betrayed - the same gut wrenching feeling when you were young: you tried to convince your parents there was a monster in the closet, and they didn't believe you - the same feeling when you realize a good friend was lying and using you, turning against you, the same feeling when someone tells you it just _won't work out. _She felt dejected.

She knew it was probably a low blow, as he said he's been very busy, but she didn't know him. He was a stranger to her - only a ghost two hours ago. She began by telling him that he had no idea what Pitch was truly like, how he understood her and her fears - teaching her to be stronger. Albeit, he was terrifying, and he lashed out often, but he was always there. Especially when she was in trouble.

"Unlike the guardians." She whispered, quietly sobbing. It pulled at Jacks' heart to hear such feeling of abandonment, yet she knew Jack had no place judging Pitch, these guardians were not there when she struggled. Jack had no ground arguing against her in her own home. It was disrespectful and rubbed salt into her wounds.

He apologized for such blunt conversation, promising that he would have been there if he had known. She replied by asking him whether he really believed he was the _Good Guy, _causing him to flinch. She didn't want to upset him, yet she felt a strong desire to push him away.

He walked past her, notifying her that he'll watch over the apartment tonight, so as not to worry her about the broken door. Shifting it out of the way, he promised he'd send a friend to repair it. Jack apologized once more. Her head turned away, trying to ignore the young voice.

Once there was the sound of the ground floor door opening then closing, she fell to her knees. _"Pitch is gone, it's dark and raining - the flipping winter guardian helped me cleanup.. I need to sleep. It's all just a strange dream. I'll wake up, Pitch will be here - tinkering about in the spare room as usual." _A woeful smile fell upon Elia's face.

However, thanks to Jacks' connection of friends - that's exactly what would happen this evening. Her apartment would be all fixed tomorrow, and she'll believe all of this was a sad dream. Jack was terrified he broke his very first older believer, a person who he actually liked very much. _'Except the whole loyal-to-Pitch, part.'_ He decided a quick trip to North's' place to pass on what he's learned is in order, along with some help from Sandy to begin fixing things.

**A/N: There, another bump for Jack and Elia to deal with. Pitch returns next chapter! **

**Rather sad chapter, actually.. Let's build up some fluffy-ness next chapter then bring the drama-bomb when Pitch returns! :D **

**(Next chapter will be very long, to fit in some introductions, some crying, some laughing, some North and Bunny chillaxing as they do, and of course some drama-llama! )**

**Please flipping review - I have no idea whether people even want to see this! **


	7. We took a step back

"Bloody show pony. A flippin' brumby is what 'e is." All four large paws slightly hopped across the concrete roof. Pacing. Mumbling ensured, as well as a little grumbling - possibly even a small amount of frustration.

Bunnymund shook his fluffy head, dead-set eyes - eyes that have seen troubling things - focusing on nothing in particular. He cursed at himself for complaining. He was asked by Jack, by a friend, to keep an eye on a child at risk. A child possibly threatened personally by Pitch, no less. So with a sigh, he turned his body to face the opposite direction - to pace once more. This would be the pattern until Jack returned from his visit to North. _"What is that blighter up to anyhow?" _ He thought to himself.

His skillful ears picked up shuffling from the girl in question, keeping tabs on her activity and that of any intruder. Even being 4 floors higher than her apartment, he was able to hear every step and whisper. As well as a gentle feminine hum every now and again - _"Girl's probably cleanin' up that state. Trust Jack to bail out on 'er." _Bunnymund smiled to himself. His mind wondered towards thoughts of the winter guardians' worries: was she truly a captive of Pitch? Or some kind of tormented victim? If so, Bunny was all for grabbing her and making a run for it - for her own safety.

Pitch was surely in trouble if he dared show his face around Bunny. To him, he had a personal score to settle - mostly about how Bunny had been demoted to a small, defenseless...well, bunny during thier last battle. Remembering the fear at almost being devoured by the nightmares, he shivered. It was indeed a very close call - only mere seconds between his tiny vulnerable state and the darkness formed his body back to its' strengthy stance. He placed a paw over one of his boomerangs: an instinctive reflex when threatened, yet the only enemy present was the feeling of inadequacy and fear. Stuck remembering that moment in the past, he was so very near to being eliminated. Shivers were sent down his long spine at the thought. A world without the Easter Bunny is a world without a guardian of hope.

And that's no world worth being in. _"So it's settled - I'm too right important for that closet troll t'get a hold over me." _Bunny chuckled to himself, trying to bolster himself up, trying to grasp some motivation.

A twitch. It was all it took to bring him back to the here and now. His pacing stopped, his breathing halted - predator mode. Only silence: Bunny's' limbs froze in place as he stood on hind-legs, arms gently raised above his hips, nothing moving.

He was sure he could hear sobbing. A certain small, little cry from a just as small little frame on the second floor. Guilt snapped through his nerves. Here he was, guarding the perimeter, while a little Sheila was crying her eyes out. Bunny looked nervously to his left, placing a paw over one of his elbows. A little uncomfortable, he decided to gather a closer inspection downstairs - knowing she was too old to believe in him, yet he wanted to offer some consolation none the less. She was still a child, mind you.

So off he slowly hopped, towards the door to the stairwell. With the mindset to repair what darkness has engulfed, he prepared to install a little of his specialty - new beginnings.

- - - - - Inside one of the many workshop rooms: North's' workshop - - - - -

"Is not problem. Facing Pitch - childs' game!" North grinned towards his younger companion. Reclining in his large arm chair, he downed a warm mug in as little as one sip. To Jacks' calm expression; he still felt hidden astonishment for the sturdy older man - full of surprises, made of many complex layers indeed.

"That's not the issue -" winter incarnate spoke, slowly sitting in a neighboring seat "-What I have a problem with is how close he is to people again. I mean seriously- he was living in an apartment!" Jack exclaimed, raising his arms to emphasize his point, flopping back into the seat from the force. His crook following suit, gently resting against his shoulder. North looked intently, humming his acknowledgement, settling his mug down on a nearby corner table.

Both stared at the fire, nestling in the hearth - as if the flames would inspire some form of plan. Between Jack huffing and fumbling with the hem of his sleeves, and North stroking the fine curtain of his beard - neither felt especially hit with creativity.

"How sure is you Pitch resides in teeny apartment?" North's' strong voice cut the silence, however, all Jack understood was _"Haow sure ees you Peetch resides in teeny aparh -t- meant" _Yet, none the less, Jack informed North of his findings: Pitch and Elia had been sending notes to signify thier absence from thier shared complex. Surely this was enough evidence to spring a plan into motion, to stop Pitch once and for all?

After a brief recap of Jacks' investigation, how he heard Elia grumbling about Pitch, how he saw the notes - how she screamed his name through fear... It was enough for Jack to be concerned.

"So you see North, he's causing havoc to a specific target. He's got a plan now" Jack fretted. He stood, beginning to feel slightly antsy. If Pitch regained any power, there could be a repeat of the last epidemic. Jack only just made it through the last bout of crazy - he didn't think he could handle another insane step without support, or heap loads of ice power.

And considering he was still learning what he could and couldn't do - he wasn't sure that he would be able to solve this alone. In fact, he barely was able to calm the girl down, let alone handle the situation if Pitch decided to appear...which could be any minuet. And he was just absent. Far away... He'd wrap this meeting with North up quickly, he should return. He should help her clean up the mess he made, help her understand she's not in any danger from Pitch, he wouldn't allow it.

He'd get to the bottom of why he was leeching off her property, with her happines intact. He'd stop Pitch's darkness from ever harming her warmth. With that thought, a cold shiver ran up through his skin. Like Jack was any better - he felt as if he could cause her body to become just as ill from his hugs as Pitchs' company. He frowned, thinking of ways not to cause more havoc.

Pitch was not right; he does not destroy everything he comes into contact with. He can preserve people from him. Jack bitterly thought of how to combat Pitch at his own game, a game of tricks.

"Well, that is whole pile of problems" The Russian brogue slipping into every word. North considered his options. Unfortunately, it was rare for any guardian to personally visit children's' homes outside of work demands, so North wasn't sure of the implications of a child getting special treatment from Pitch - would it tip the scale of all of the believers' in that area? Or would it strengthen Pitchs' power to have so much fear from an individual.

This was an issue fitting for a reunion of the guardians, North decided. At least then he had safety in numbers so he could find Pitch, as well as keep this individual child safe.

Regardless, North would not settle until this one child was safe from his clutches - especially if he did not fully understand Pitchs' motives.

Throwing a knowing smile towards Jack, he gestured for him to follow - moving towards the sophisticated desk, planning swiftly followed.

Elia wiped her face, feeling immature that such a strange coincidence brought her to tears - he should have known. Through knowing Pitch, surely it left his enemies just as real as he was. She should have prepared herself for such an overload of plain weird. She wanted to be brave; she wanted to be graceful, yet by befriending Pitch: she seemed to gain the unlikely enemy of Winter - but she never liked the cold anyway. It just felt like such an overload for one evening, and it was swiftly turning to a deep night outside. Such a mix of fear, worry, excitement and shock brought her to a strange imbalance of tears and calm-ness. It made her an absolute wreck, so she tried to focus on repairing what could be fixed, and cleaning all that was mis-strewn across the floor.

She felt a strong obligation to report back to Pitch, but he wasn't here. He wouldn't be for 6 more days. Elia couldn't help feeling slightly abandoned - if this Jack character was to suddenly reappear, and most likely in numbers to ransack her flat - not only would her life be forfeit, but so would her trust in her ghastly protector.

_"Stop it!" _She scolded her thoughts _"He will return - he always has. Remain strong, if this Jack sees you weak, he'll attack while he has the advantage - that's what happened to Pitch__..."_She worried, fretting over her paranoid thoughts. A debate formed in her mind, now that he had met Jack, he didn't seem...that aggressive. If anything, he seemed genuine in wanting to keep her safe and calm, even backing off when he realized Pitch did indeed live here.

He didn't even press her for details.

_"But now he knows where to attack-__" Her_ breathing hitched. Her chest tightened, Elia always warned Pitch that the more he tried to terrify her, the more her body would be on edge from shocking things - she prayed she wouldn't end up a nervous wreck, and she heard panic attacks were horrifying to endure.

Calm.

Breathe.

"_As long as I-" _Breathed in "-_stay calm__..."_Breathing out. After a moment to stand, brushing off her cardigan and skirt, she composed her face. Running her hands through her hair, she pulled it back into a loose ponytail, securing it with a hair tie. Once regaining control over her pulse, she walked over to her kitchen to retrieve a few waste bags. This apartment will be spotless or her wrath will be met - evil winter spirit or not. Traitor person. Whatever. Huffing, she placed the last few items of broken wood into the bag.

Little did she know that Bunnymund was slouching against the front door-frame, listening to her flitting about, contemplating the best way to enter without riling her up any more than necessary - sounds like the little one had enough on her plate?

That was until he heard a sharp intake of breath, then silence.

**A/N: Sorry about the week wait - exam season has just started for me :S **

**Another one soon, please review! ^_^**


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